Competitive Drinking
by EurasianLynx
Summary: In which two brothers learn why they should not have get-togethers when they have a lot of work to do, and are both natural insomniacs. And Sportacus is rightly startled.


**Inspired by Amazon review for 5-Hour Energy, just look it up, I'm sure you can find it. No real plot or anything, just a random idea.**

It was approximately 3:40 a.m. when Sportacus's crystal went off.

The magic alarm was blaring like a siren, and the poor elf was startled violently out of bed. He collided with the floor of the airship with a grunt of surprise and pain, wincing as he touched his most likely bruised tailbone gingerly. He shook his head, trying to clear the grogginess of sleep from his mind.

What was someone doing getting into trouble at this time of the morning?

It took him several minutes to get ready, far slower than he normally would have liked. He was out of it, the last dredges of sleep trying to beckon him back to rest. He fumbled around for his blaring crystal, immediately finding himself assaulted with images.

Robbie.

Robbie Rotten was in trouble.

There was pink. And screaming. And the feeling of so much energy Sportacus himself thought he was about to burst, and that said a lot.

Something was desperately wrong here.

The elf practically ripped the hatch to Robbie's lair open, slipping down the chute without so much as a knock. After several heart pounding moments, the athletic man crashed into the lair below, dropping into a crouch as he emerged from the entrance and looked around, ready to deal with whatever trouble was there.

"What are you doing here, Sportakook?!"

The elf blinked, unsure of what he was seeing for a moment. Robbie Rotten, town villain, was standing in the midst of a perfectly clean and organized lair, looking at the intruder with a crazed look in his eyes.

The skin around his eyes was dark as though he hadn't slept in quite some time. That in and of itself wasn't abnormal, Robbie was known was being an insomniac. While Sportacus hardly approved, he was aware that it wasn't truly the man's fault, and Robbie seemed to function well enough in his current situation.

All and all, nothing was strange. Robbie typically didn't enjoy the elf's presence, and perhaps the man had wanted to get some cleaning done? Sportacus could approve of that. However…

"I think I can smell colors, Robbie!"

"It's your makeup, genius!"

Who was the man wearing the catsuit? The elf didn't know what to do. This new man looked a lot like the town villain, right down the overly bloodshot eyes and crazed look on both of the men's faces. There was also a multitude of pink clothing scattered about near the man in the heels and catsuit, who currently had his hands over his face with something that could be mistaken for sobbing coming through his fingers, muffled as it may be.

"Robbie… how long have you been awake?"

The poor elf nearly jumped out of his skin when Robbie slammed his hands onto the man's shoulders. The villain looked like a wild horse, eyes bulging, a little bit of spittle around his mouth, and everything seemed tense and bloodshot.

He looked like he was about to jump out of his skin, and within the next moment before Robbie spoke, the third man in the room promptly screamed and took off running. He nearly crashed into a wall, skidding to a halt before the man in heels collapsed into hysteric laughter on the floor. He was clawing at his chest.

"Can your heart burst from beating too hard? Because I think mine is about to."

Robbie was distracted from whatever he was about to say, a hand flying to his neck as he searched for his pulse. Poor Sportacus didn't know what to say, but the next moment Robbie spoke up himself.

"Either my heart has stopped completely or is beating so fast I can't feel it because I am not feeling a pulse right now."

"Robbie! What's wrong!?"

The sports elf grabbed the villain's shoulders, forcibly pulling his attention back to him. Robbie looked at him with his wild eyes, before he seemed to become distracted only moments later. The villain pulled himself away with uncanny strength, and Sportacus didn't even have the sense of mind to try and grab him again.

The man (who Sportacus noticed was no longer wearing his suit, but was instead in a sweater and loose pants, as if he had been trying to sleep) walked over to a neatly organized table, roughly grabbing several sheets of paper and a pen, rushing over to shove them into Sportacus's hands.

"Sportaflop! Take a note!"

The elf just nodded dumbly and tried to scribble out whatever Robbie was about to say. He didn't know what to do right now, so he just let himself be pulled along into the chaos. The villain started.

"Alright, cons of the situation!"

The hero scribbled out the man's words frantically.

"I haven't slept in 72 hours and I can't feel my face."

The catsuited man hysterically added onto the list.

"I also just peed about 15 minutes ago and I think it was mostly blood!"

Sportacus wrote it down, too shocked and numb to the chaos to be horrified by the information from both of the other parties present. Robbie stared vacantly into space for a moment, before snapping his fingers and yelling out another command.

"Okay, pros of the situation! We managed to successfully clean, organize, re-organize, and label everything in my lair and prepared meals for the next few days. We also completed any and all possible paperwork I could need done for about the next 2 weeks."

The other man piped up again.

"I think I can hear your thoughts!"

Robbie didn't snap anything back at him for that, he just let the elf write it down. After the hero had stopped writing, Robbie roughly grabbed the paper from his hands and read over it, before nodding with satisfaction. The other man continued to laugh-sob over by the wall, curled up in a ball on the ground. Robbie's face and fingers were twitching, and he didn't seem to be aware of it.

Sportacus stood there awkwardly for a few moments, shuffling uncomfortably in place. He spoke up after no one spoke for nearly a minute.

"Robbie… what happened?"

And that was how two brothers learned they should really not have get-togethers when they were both frequent insomniacs who had way too much work to do already and were naturally competitive with each other.

And that was why Sportacus had to give a very strange lecture to the kids about getting enough sleep again, awkwardly tagging on at the end that they should most definitely _not_ get into any 5-Hour Energy drinking competitions, no matter how competitive they were nor how much work they had to get done.


End file.
